


stars are blind

by cosmya



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Human, Evil Plans, Genderswap, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Lapdance, Multi, Showgirls (1995) AU, Sibling Incest, Sibling Rivalry, Stripping, brief loki/fandral and thor/fandral but it's not endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-01-30 00:56:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21419551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmya/pseuds/cosmya
Summary: After an unthinkable family tragedy befalls Thor, she finds herself in Las Vegas, where her estranged sister Loki is a successful showgirl. Though, at first, Loki wants nothing to do with her, Thor’s raw talent means she quickly works her way up the ladder and threatens to take over Loki’s spot as the most famous girl in Vegas. And when Loki feels threatened, well, that’s when the claws come out.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26
Collections: Thorki Big Bang 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Thorki Big Bang 2019. Endless thanks to the mods for putting together such a wonderful event!
> 
> I'd also love to thank my AMAZING artist [shatou](https://twitter.com/_shatou_?lang=en) for doing such incredible work. It's perfect <3
> 
> Lastly, my posting is going to be interrupted for a couple weeks as I'll be out of the country. I'll be posting on Wednesdays with the exception of 11/27 and 12/4.Thanks for your patience!

The dust in the air sparkled like glitter. The cars flying by on the highway picked it up into little tornadoes, sticking it to the sweat covering Thor’s skin and clogging up her lungs. She squinted back at the sun setting behind her as she walked as quickly as she could east, towards the city of sin, and stuck out her thumb. She refused to feel embarrassed.

The heat had reached a fever pitch in the autumn dusk, and she was close enough to Vegas now to see the blinding gleam of thousands of mirror-windowed hotel rooms when a teal ‘89 Chevy pulled over wildly in front of her onto the shoulder. Relieved, she approached the open window. The man inside looked ostentatiously at her cleavage and Daisy Dukes and smirked.

“Where you headed, honey?” His voice was thick and Thor could almost smell the whiskey on his breath from outside the car.

“Vegas,” she responded. “Couldn’t ya tell?”

He nodded once and his smile widened. “Hop in.”

Under normal circumstances, Thor knew that this was the exact situation barely-eighteen girls like herself were supposed to avoid like the plague. But she was low on options, and more importantly, she was far from a damsel in distress.

So, with a smile of her own, she flung open the door and collapsed, exhausted, on the bench seat. Its tan leather was cracked and burned her thighs from the sun beating down on it all day, but at least she was sitting. Before she could close the door, they sped off.

“Where’re you from?” the man drawled. His Texan accent hadn’t faded, though the sickly pale sheen of his skin suggested that he’d since moved farther north. He stomped his foot on the gas, and soon they were nearing 90, swerving around the cars stubbornly sticking to the speed limit.

“Around.”

“Around where?”

“Places.” Thor wasn’t too keen on sharing. She’d been through enough.

“So how’d you end up out here, all by your lonesome?” He switched driving hands and rested his right one on the seat. Like a caterpillar, it inched towards Thor’s leg. 

She wouldn’t want to threaten him this far out from the city, though. It had taken long enough to get one car to stop. “It’s a sad story.”

“I love me a sad story.” 

“I bet you’ll hear about it on the national news soon.”

“That bad?” he asked, and studied her. Thor would’ve preferred that he kept his eyes on the road, but she knew how men hated backseat drivers.

She let the tension build. The sun finally sunk below the horizon and in an instant the lights from the city were as bright as a million stars. Despite herself, Thor smiled. “My dad killed my mom. And then he killed himself.”

The man didn’t respond. Maybe he thought she was lying. She didn’t care. It’d been a few days. The shock had worn off. Now, all she could think of was how she should’ve known it would end this way in the first place.

She’d said it before and she would say it again. Shame wasn’t an option. Neither was sadness. All it would do was hold her back, and she wasn’t in Vegas to mourn. When they passed the famous sign, the sad part of herself she’d been fighting finally retreated back into the cellar in her heart.

“I’m sorry, hon,” the man said. And, like saying sorry was enough to get her in a dick-sucking mood, his hand finally crawled over her thigh and stroked inwards.

“Hey!” She jumped away from him. 

At least he actually recoiled and didn’t force his hand down her pants. He stuck his eyes stubbornly back on the road and his hands back on the steering wheel. “Honey, I brought you all the way here. It’s the least you could-” he started to argue, but Thor wasn’t in an arguing mood. Already, she had lurched towards him and had her switchblade positioned up against his neck.

His hands came up in surrender and Thor stopped pressing the knife into his skin, though she kept it held high. He looked around nervously, maybe searching for a cop now that they were actually in the city, and the light in front of them turned red. An instant before it was too late, he slammed on the brakes.

“Are you fuckin’ crazy?” he demanded.

“Maybe I am. I’m most certainly not about to be fucked with.” 

“I see that.” Contrary to his words, though, Thor’s near-assault did seem to earn her some respect. As they wriggled through the crowded roads, he didn’t once try anything with her again.

It gave Thor a point of pride to be capable, still, of acting like herself. Blonde and sweet and very pretty, with the soul of a lion. Moreover, she knew it was nigh time to start getting used to this sort of shit. They didn’t call it the city of sin for nothing. And boy, was it sin she saw as she watched the streets starting to fill with people. There was so much happiness on their faces, even if it was a manufactured sort of thing, thanks to the yard-long plastic cups of sugary alcohol they held and their white-encrusted noses. It was strangely beautiful to her. Manufactured happiness, she decided, was better than no happiness at all.

“So, er... is there anywhere in particular you’re going?” 

“The Stardust,” Thor replied confidently. “My sister works there. She’s all I got left.”

The man yanked the steering wheel to the left aggressively, pulling into a massive rounded driveway of sorts in front of a white stone behemoth of a building. To the side, fountains played joyfully as neon lights shined over glistening pools and palm trees. Gilded statues of naked women graced the base of each one.

“Here we are. Now, uh, don’t be offended if I don’t go in there with ya. Bit uppity for me, if you catch my drift.”

Thor shrugged; she was glad to be getting rid of him. He pulled up to the front doors and she got out before the truck had fully stopped. “See ya around.”

He winked at her. “Good luck, hon.”

“Good luck.”

Two besuited men opened the doors for her and the blast of air conditioning hit her like a pool on a hot day. The casino was the biggest room she’d ever been in, easy. It hummed with excitement; the waitresses serving drinks in their shiny black minidresses flitting around over the deep green carpet looked like flies, buzzing from patron to patron bringing joy instead of disease. Coins dropping on coins and slot machines signaling _ WINNER! _ peppered a tempting landscape and tickled Thor’s ears pleasingly. 

She walked slowly, taking it all in. There was so much majesty: so many colors, so many sounds, so many beautiful people with such beautiful smiles. It smelled of cigarettes and money, but in the best way. Thor understood exactly why her sister had wanted to come here.

A warm hand touched her shoulder. It was one of those waitresses, holding up by her ear a shiny chrome tray covered in half-drunk vodka sodas and empty glasses. “Anything you need, dear?”

“Oh, um... I could die for a beer right now,” she admitted. The waitress smiled at her and was gone as suddenly as she’d came.

Thor only had a few dollars, but knew she could play the penny slots for hours even with what little she had. Through the crowds of people, they were rather hard to find. The touchy guy in the Chevy had a good point - the Stardust did seem a bit uppity. Finally, she found an old-looking row of them in a more subdued corner. She sat at an empty one and fumbled in her pocket to pull out a dollar.

The older man sitting at the one next to her hit a row of raspberries. He struck his fist on the glass and Thor couldn’t tell if it was in celebration or anger.

“Everything okay?” she asked, trying to be kind.

He seemed startled to see her there. “It’s fine. I’m here to play, not for the money.”

“What do you mean?”

He put another dollar into the machine and pressed the bet ten cents button. “You never win anything over here. That one was, what, a five-dollar win? But that’s not what it’s about,” he assured himself. It was becoming clearer that he was likely very drunk. “What’re you over here for, miss?”

Thor smiled sheepishly. “It’s all I have. But I couldn’t come here and not try it out, right?”

“Cheers to that.”

As if on cue, the waitress showed up with Thor’s beer. She took it gladly and it tasted better than any beer she’d had before, though it was probably the same old Coors. It also occurred to her that she hadn’t been carded, and she knew she didn’t look 21. Was that why the waitress was still standing here, hand on her hip?

The man gave her a confused look and suddenly, she understood. “Oh - I’m sorry! How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house,” the waitress said, annoyed. Why, then, was she still there?

The older man handed the waitress one of his dollars, and she grabbed it impatiently and left. Thor bit her lip. Oops.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I had no idea. If I win anything, it’s going to you.” And she pressed the bet button, hoping she could live up to her words. Raspberry, _ 100 _, bullseye. Nothing. “Sorry...”

“It’s alright, it’s alright.” But he got up to leave anyway.

Thor sighed. This wasn’t exactly how she’d pictured her first gambling experience to go. But the night was young, and she wasn’t here to give her money away. She was here to take what she deserved.

So she left the slot machines, asked a lurking bouncer where the stages were, and set off to find the only family she had left.

* * *

Wandering around the casino, Thor found herself in love. The way that time never seemed to pass, the pristine cleanliness of it all, the promise of something unexpected around each corner - it was intoxicating. Sure, it would be better if she could actually _ buy _the shiny things in the shop windows and eat at the restaurants of chefs she’d never heard of but assumed were world famous. But until that day came, looking was something. Hell, maybe Loki would take her on a shopping spree, or at least to a nice dinner. The way her face was plastered on every other poster Thor passed suggested that she was doing reasonably well.

It was easy to get lost, though, and Thor had to ask for directions from multiple uniformed staff, some of whom gave her looks like she shouldn’t have been there. At least she was just asking politely, and not telling all of them who her sister was. She wasn’t that dumb. They bore no resemblance, and surely Loki got that sort of thing all the time.

The stage Loki performed on was deep in the behemoth, past the shops and another bank of slot machines and a velvet-roped room Thor knew was for the high-rollers only. The theater entrance was flanked by two more guards in deep green suits and sunglasses. Though it was inside, it had a tall, lit-up sign like the ones at the theaters in Los Angeles. The board said in big black letters LOKI ODINSDOTTIR STARRING IN... _ GODDESS _. It was very old-Hollywood. 

Thor didn’t think she’d be allowed to simply walk in the theater, as it was almost eight PM now and the show was probably in full swing. Instead, she eyed a hallway leading off to the side next to yet another Italian place by the restrooms. If Thor was lucky, this would lead to backstage. She strode confidently over to it, feeling rather silly. But this was Vegas. People probably acted funny around bathrooms all the time.

She continued past them, though, and down a few stairs was an unmarked door. It was also unguarded and unlocked. Apparently, Thor’s bad luck from earlier had run out. She opened it confidently, knowing that the first rule of going somewhere you aren’t supposed to be is acting like you own the place.

This was undoubtedly it. Whereas the hallway and main floor behind her had been quiet and controlled despite the hour, in here it was pandemonium. Bedazzled women in rainbow colors and every type of sequin imaginable scurried past, makeup half-done, or were having pearl-encrusted bras clasped by others, or were struggling to get wigs off without ruining the cap underneath, or were simply anxiously tottering back and forth as they waited to go onstage. Every inch of the room (which Thor gathered was a sort of communal dressing-room for the showgirls) was covered in at least fifty shades of glitter. 

Thor also gathered that this was a topless revue.

The one thing she did not see was her sister. Perhaps she was simply onstage. Or, more likely... her sister was too good for this sort of class solidarity with her fellow performers.

Unfortunately, there was nobody around who seemed free enough for her to ask a question. Trying not to be noticed, she sidled around, looking for a door marked LOKI.

“Hey, you-” she distantly heard someone say, though at first she thought it was just another part of the raucous din of the dressing room. She turned around, anyway, and saw a short, black braided-haired woman adjusting the ethereal tulle angel-wings of a performer.

“Me?” said Thor.

“Yes, you. Come here.” Her voice was dominant, and it was clear that she held some sort of authority here.

Thor did as she was told and started apologizing. “I-I’m so sorry, I’m looking for my sister, and I think I got lost, could you...”

The woman smiled and rolled her eyes, then patted the girl she was helping on the shoulder and she, too, scurried away up a dangerous-looking flight of steep metal stairs. “Looking to audition? Or trying to find your boyfriend?”

Thor could forgive her for not hearing her right the first time; the bass from the show upstairs was practically shaking the room. “My sister. She’s in the show here, her name is Loki-”

The look of doubt on the woman’s face was almost comical. “I think you’re mistaken, honey. Loki is an only child.”

Of _ course _ Loki would say that. “No, she’s not. She was adopted, and then left, and now she doesn’t talk to us, I mean _ me _, but she’s not an only child.”

“And you are here to...” She snapped her fingers at another girl, who came over to have her costume fixed. The elaborate straps crossing her back had twisted unattractively. 

“I just need to tell her some bad news. She needs to hear it before she turns on the TV tonight.” Thor also needed to ask her for money, a place to live, and a job, but that could all wait.

“Well, I don’t think Loki watches TV, but her dressing room is over there.” She pointed back behind the stairs. “Just don’t tell her I said it was okay to go in. She gets a little... well, let’s just say she’s not one for surprises.”

Thor breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said. 

The woman laughed; it was the sweetest wind-chime of a laugh. “Don’t call me that. I’m Sif. Nice to meet you.” She stuck out her hand to shake Thor’s sharply and then went back to sewing the pearl button back onto a costume. At least this time, the costume didn’t currently have a half-naked woman in it. 

“Thor. Maybe we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

“You live out here?”

“I don’t really live anywhere. But for now, I’m really likin’ Vegas.”

“You say that again after she takes all your money.” 

Thor was going to retort, but suddenly a thundering filled the room as dozens of stiletto heels hit metal stairs; though this was tonight’s last show, they all had better places to be. After the stampede subsided, a single figure cut a calm, sauntering way down. Her hair was cut into a severe black bob just above her protruding collarbones, and she wore a fluffy red robe. Her glass of champagne sparkled in the lights; her sharp nails curled around it were painted a deep, shiny green. When she saw Thor, her eyes narrowed and her mouth twisted into a smile.

She downed her drink when she reached the bottom of the stairs and set the crystal on one of the makeup-strewn counters. Then she disappeared into her private room. Thor was speechless.

Sif looked at her, bemused. “You know, I actually think she might want to talk to you! You had me doubting, you know,” she teased.

“Thanks again, Sif,” Thor managed to get out, and she went to see her sister.

* * *

Thor opened the door as carefully as she could. The room was practically as big as their house had been growing up, and every imaginable surface was covered in flowers. Loki sat with her bare feet up at her dressing table, slowly peeling off her fake eyelashes. She looked far more at ease than Thor felt. Her casual glance towards the door indicated that she was used to visitors.

“What’re you doin’ here, darlin?” she drawled, gazing through the three-faceted mirror towards Thor. Or she could’ve just been looking at her own reflection. Thor couldn’t blame her. All of her string-bean awkwardness growing up had matured into sophisticated glamour.

Thor shut the door but didn’t sit down; she didn’t want to sully Loki’s beautiful things with her dust-caked skin and greasy denim shorts. “Well...” she began. “It’s not good news.”

“I suspected as much. If it were good news, you wouldn’t be here, now would you?”

“Do you not want me here?”

“Not particularly.”

Thor sighed, but it was more of a sign of acceptance than defeat. She couldn’t say she wasn’t expecting it. All these past seven years, Loki knew where her family lived, she had their phone number. Her silence had been a choice.

“Go ahead,” Loki continued encouragingly. “Let’s get this over with. And sit down. You’re making me uncomfortable hoverin’ over there.” She began wiping her stage makeup off. Somehow, her bare skin underneath was even more radiant without it. It made Thor self-conscious (as well as rather annoyed) about her few stubborn zits that hadn’t gotten the memo that they were supposed to disappear once she was an adult.

A black leather couch nearest the door seemed the most demure option and she sat, anxious energy leaking out of her by way of the fevered bouncing of her right foot. “Mom and Dad... they’re dead.”

Loki’s expression didn’t change, but she put the washcloth back on the counter. She stared at Thor, waiting.

“I mean... Dad killed Mom, and then himself. You know how he got. He left, you know, right after you did. But sometimes he came back. Like he wanted Mom to remember that she wasn’t really ever free of him. And I guess he just... took it a step too far this time.”

“Were you there?” Loki asked tonelessly.

“Nah, I was workin’. I don’t know if he’d’ve done it if I was there. Or maybe he’d’ve killed me too.”

Loki’s eyes, now free of makeup, narrowed. She looked much younger without it all. It didn’t make it any easier for Thor to read her expression; it had been too long since they’d seen each other. “When was this?”

“Last week.”

“You seem... pretty alright.”

Thor’s mouth took on that half-smile it did whenever she thought of the horror she’d so recently gotten over. She nodded and relaxed back on the couch. This was actually going better than expected. “The way I look at it, it’s over now. I mean, I’m not saying this is a good thing, it’s awful, but... it’s over. Mama’s free.”

“I’m not sure I’d call that freedom.”

“That’s - that’s not what I’m saying,” Thor backtracked. “Don’t try to make me sad about this again, Lo. I did my time. I’m not here to mourn.”

Loki swiveled her chair around until she was directly facing Thor and began examining her fingernails. “What are you here for, then?”

“To start over. Like you did.” The air conditioner kicked on and a trail of goosebumps spread over Thor’s legs.

“I don’t think I’d call what I did startin’ over. I’d just call it startin’.”

“Same difference.”

“Not really. I did what I did because I wanted to, not because I had to.” Her tone, too, had turned icy.

Thor raised her eyebrows. “You left New York because you wanted to?” She wasn’t trying to be a smart-ass, or get on Loki’s nerves. She genuinely wanted to know. Just because she knew where her sister had been and found Vegas alluring as well didn’t mean she didn’t want to hear the why of it from the horse’s mouth.

Loki’s stare could’ve wilted the flowers that filled her dressing room. “Yes.” And then she stood, slunk off her robe, and strode to a chrome clothing rack to thumb through her dresses, in nothing but a sparkling silver thong. She took her time, too, like she wanted Thor to be jealous, as if she wasn’t already. Finally, she settled on a purple satin one so short that there was no way she could even go up stairs without exposing all that glittery glory. She threw it over her frame gracefully and turned back to Thor. “What are you really here for, darlin’?” She didn’t let Thor answer. “Money? A job? A little familial affection? I’m sorry, honey, but you’re not gonna get that from me. I got here all by myself. I don’t think you have the balls to do the same. If you’re smart, you’ll leave.”

“I just got here.”

“Take it from someone who knows. This is not a good place for you, Thor,” she warned smoothly, and started reapplying a deep pink lipstick in the mirror. 

“So what should I do? You’re telling me - your only sister, the only person you have left-”

Loki whipped around, her carefully constructed mask of composure slipping. “Does it look like I need anyone? I thought I was bein’ clear. You’re on your own. Now get out of my dressing room.”

Thor got up to leave, tears welling in her eyes despite her determination not to cry in front of Loki. “Don’t you... aren’t you... our parents are _ dead _, Loki-”

“They’ve been dead to me for years. Time for you to get used to it, too.”

* * *

Thor sat cross-legged on the twin bed with one hand in a plastic bucket of cheese puffs and the other flipping through phone-book pages. It was almost 3PM, and Sif had to leave for work soon.

Her trailer-home was small, but much more inviting than Loki’s grand dressing room had been. Thor had left it in a huff, and her tears did not go unnoticed by Sif, who was almost alone in the main space after the performers had left for the night. The sweet girl had invited her back to stay the night, and told her to help herself to whatever food she had. 

More importantly than all of that, she’d offered a shoulder to cry on. Sure, Thor had been hungry and tired and in need of a hot shower, but after the wholesale rejection Loki had offered, a friend was what she really wanted.

“Do you think the Wendy’s would take me?” she absentmindedly asked Sif. After sleeping in well past noon, she’d gotten to work quickly on finding a job.

Not once did she consider heeding Loki’s advice to leave. She was here, and she was going to make it work, goddammit.

“Oh, Thor, you can do better than that. Minimum wage doesn’t get you far here.” Sif was decidedly unfussy in her light-wash jeans and denim jacket, a far cry from the fantastical designs she worked on at the Stardust. It suited her well.

“Do you have any better ideas?”

Sif fumbled in her purse for her keys and gave Thor a look. “For a girl like you, there’s basically two options. You serve drinks at a place like the Stardust and pocket a few extra dollars an hour, sometimes more if you’re lucky. Or... you strip. There’s not much here that doesn’t involve taking your clothes off.”

Thor bit her lip. If you asked her a few months ago whether she’d ever consider stripping an option, she would’ve spat out a no. Certainly this was what Loki was talking about. “How much do you make doing that?” she asked tentatively.

Sif laughed, but once more Thor knew it wasn’t at her expense. “A lot, if you’re good. If you have any of your sister’s chops, you’ll be rich in a week.”

“Well, she was adopted, so I’m not sure if that rubs off that way-”

“Just audition, hon. I don’t care what she says, I think you have it in you.” She leaned down to hug Thor goodbye. “I’m real sorry, I have to go, but I’ll be back late tonight. If you’re still up we could go out. Good luck!”

  
Thor bid her to have fun at work, and the screen door swung shut with a crash. She shoveled more cheese puffs into her mouth and flipped to the _ gentleman’s clubs _section of the phone book.


	2. Chapter 2

Loki twirled the tacky plastic sword that speared two rather withered-looking olives around in her martini. It had been Fandral’s idea to come here. The Metropolitan had recently undergone a rebranding, breathlessly trying to keep up with the easy glamour of the more sophisticated casinos, chiefly their very own Stardust. This had included the addition of several new shows, and though Loki knew it was Fandral’s job to know what they were up against, it was rather thoughtless of him to make it into a date. Not to mention practically  _ offensive _ that Fandral thought  _ anyone _ could compete with his girlfriend’s show.

However, she was not particularly hurt. She was firmly committed to the fact that she was not in love with him, nor even really in  _ like,  _ and would never be. But he was pretty enough, and easy to use. His name carried weight in Vegas, and veritable wheelbarrows of money. He seemed to enjoy her quite enough, and their sex was fine. Most critically, he was either too stupid to realize how deeply she manipulated him, or was simply fine with it. An ideal business relationship. This was what Loki liked so much about them.

She did not always agree with his choice of restaurants, or friends, or bars. But acquiescing every so often was one of the easiest ways to keep his illusion of control intact. 

He had just finished the last sip of his after-show old fashioned and had the eager, peachy look of someone who had been sitting on a secret for hours and had decided the time was ripe to indulge. “You’ll never guess what I heard through the grapevine.”

“Probably not,” Loki replied, bored.

“A friend of a friend, don’t think you know him, he was out at the Crave with us the other night. He owns half the strip clubs in town. Anyway, I guess there was a rumor that a certain new girl at one of them has a... well, an uncommon last name. I don’t think she herself has been spreading it around, but everyone is saying that you two... are related!” he finished with a wannabe-Patrick-Bateman chuckle. 

Loki’s nails made a chalkboard sound on her glass.

A maelstrom of thoughts tumbled through her mind -  _ who does she think she is - why does she insist on ruining my life - really, stripping - I bet she’s fucking for money too -  _ but, as she was in public, she let out the bluster with an uncomfortably high-pitched giggle. No need to make the poor waitresses at this hole of a club clean up her broken glass.

Fandral peered through his businessman glasses at her expectantly.

Loki half-rolled her eyes. She knew she could keep this secret, but it’d been itching at her. A bitch session was precisely what she needed. “Well, hon... you can tell your friends they’re right.”

“That’s funny,” Fandral replied, signaling the bartender for another round. 

“No, really. She came to my dressing room a few weeks ago. It was the first time I’d seen her in seven years.” Loki wondered whether she was going to regret this. Probably.

It was satisfying to her how unsurprised Fandral seemed at finding out this heretofore unknown information about his purported girlfriend. She’d always maintained that the less they knew about each other, the better. “You never told me you had a sister.”

“Can you blame me?” Loki smirked. “You’re not exactly ‘meet the family’ material.”

“You mean your family isn’t exactly ‘meeting me” material?” He straightened his spine slightly as if trying to call attention to his Armani suit. Like Loki hadn’t seen it on her floor plenty of times.

“Somethin’ like that. Where’d you say she’s workin’?”

“Cheetah’s Topless Club. It’s, uh...” He seemed unsure of whether he was allowed to insult Loki’s sister.

He’d soon find out. “A brothel?”   
  


“Not legally.”

“Listen. My little sister is 18. She’s been through her fair share of hardships, I’ll admit it. But she doesn’t know  _ shit _ . She’s so far in over her head she’ll be seein’ her own asshole soon.” 

“What’s she doing here, then?”

“Trying to piss me off. Let’s just say our parents are out of the picture now.” Loki was already revealing quite enough. This was not the time (and, really, would it ever be?) to tell their whole tragic saga. 

The music increased in volume; it was finally drawing nearer to the  _ good _ part of night, but Loki was not in the mood. She was unsettled, and she was unsettled  _ because _ she was unsettled. Five glorious years, a rise to fame, a firm position at the top of Mount Olympus. As silly as this seemed, Thor was still a threat. Threats needed to be dismantled. Loki chewed on her acrylic, thinking.

Fandral was still somewhat stunned by all of the personal information he’d learned about his girlfriend. But he knew her well enough to know that she was a bitch who took action. He, too, had a rather hungry look in his eye. “What do you say we do about it?” 

This was one of the benefits to being with Fandral. He had the same competitive streak she did; it was what made him successful. And when there was prey to be found, he went hunting.

Loki wasn’t quite so deranged that she was prepared to remove her sister in  _ that _ way, so they would do the next best thing. “Well, we drive her out, of course.”

* * *

They pulled up to Cheetah’s around 12:30. It was the kind of place you expected to see in, say, Oklahoma, not Vegas. But Loki could not deny that it held a certain charm.  _ She’d _ never stripped, obviously, but she could almost see the allure. 

It was no surprise that she looked out of place, but at least it was the kind that drew wanting eyes to her. The club was dim and everything looked sticky, and the less she looked at the other patrons the better. Fandral was clearly unbothered. He rarely distinguished between the expensive glitz of his own productions and this sort of thing. Why would he, when both spelled money?

Loki kept her sunglasses on as they waltzed around pleather couches and pole-adorned stages. She knew she would be recognized anyway, and what gossip of its own that would bring. But she would rather it not be obvious how she desirously watched the girls twirl around that chrome and artlessly grind the cash-strewn stage floors. She might’ve thought herself above this profession, but she was only human.

“Do you see her?” Fandral asked. He was gazing much more openly. It was funny to Loki how a girl taking her clothes off could still be exciting for him when managing his own coterie of them was his literal profession.

“No. Let’s sit down.”

Never one to simply pick whatever spot was available like some tourist, Fandral approached a bouncer, slipped him a fifty, and they were promptly seated in the ostensible VIP area. A short waitress clad in a faux-fur bikini took their drink orders. At least they kept to their own theme, Loki thought.

But Thor was not a part of the main show, which started shortly after their arrival. It gave Loki a measure of peace. By her calculations, Thor had only been here for a few days, and the worse she was at stripping, the better. Nor was it fairly exciting to watch; just some pseudo-lesbian posturing by two of the more shameless girls. The crowd loved it, but Loki found herself bored. If it wasn’t dancing, and it wasn’t sex, it wasn’t real.

So, as usual, she drank. And as she drank, she felt the memories coming back, of a time when she couldn’t afford to eat, much less eat nothing but fifteen-dollar nutrient shakes, when she had to wear the same dancing shoes for eight years, when she stole cover-up for her bruises every time she went to the drugstore. And her mood tumbled. That was the life Thor probably still led. Shouldn’t she do something to make it less painful?

_ No _ , the voice in her head reminded her. Thor could go to college or at least beauty school or something. There were scholarships. Stripping would lead her even further down that dark road. She’d probably end up addicted to meth in the next month or so. If anything, Loki’s real responsibility here was to make her life even  _ worse.  _ She was doing the right thing.

Mind made up (for the tenth time) she downed the rest of her drink (her fifth) and tried to get out of her own thoughts. The main show was over, the stages were crawling with dancers now, and she had a job to do. 

Something in the air seemed to change. She was still just sitting there, demure as she could be, and yet all of a sudden, it felt like all eyes were on her. Fandral nudged her and pointed to the smaller platform off to their left.

Thor walked, like someone imitating a high-fashion model, to the pole. Her makeup was garish, her blonde hair a mess  _ (really, Thor, it’s not 1987 anymore)  _ and her costume was... well, it actually sort of worked. It was metallic and silver and called to mind chainmail, and on her surprisingly-muscular body, she looked like raw power waiting to be unleashed.

And unleashed it was when she actually started dancing.

If it wasn’t so embarrassing, Loki would’ve laughed. Though she had the strength to do even more advanced pole moves, Thor was utterly graceless, and writhed around it like a drunk child. Everything was so... so  _ extreme,  _ and when she started taking off that metallic bra top, it was with the eagerness of a desperate virgin. It was the furthest thing from Loki’s own dancing. 

Still, she couldn’t look away.

Something about that rawness made Loki hungry. What might it look like honed, streamlined, improved?

No, no, Loki reminded herself. That was the opposite of what she wanted to do. And it was fairly embarrassing that she’d let herself get so drunk that she started acting this out of character. She snapped herself out of it.

“I think we ought to ask for a private dance,” she whispered to Fandral, who was transfixed with a strange combination of awe and disgust on his face.

“With your sister?” he asked, confused.

“For you, of course.” Loki moved to a seat facing Thor; she gathered that Thor hadn’t noticed them yet, which wasn’t entirely unbelievable considering how her head whipped so quickly back and forth. Loki crossed her legs, took out some cash, and peered up mysteriously, waiting to be noticed.

The song hit its climax and Thor spun down the pole, arching her back promiscuously, and crawled on all fours towards the edge of the stage while drunk men tossed crumbled bills on her back. Her eyes were closed and her hips made circles in the air; she was  _ feeling _ this, that was clear. 

She sat back on her ass and opened her eyes, wiggling her breasts in time with the fading beats of the music. Loki smiled up at her. 

“You do private dances, darlin’?”

Thor’s gaze flicked to her with a shock. “No,” she snapped. 

“For five hundred?” Loki held up the cash. “It’s for him, not for me,” she added, motioning to her boyfriend.

Thor didn’t respond, but slid off the stage, sizing Fandral up. Surely she was just being coy; private dances were practically the only way anyone made money here. It would be suicide to pass this much up.

“Fine.” 

Loki smirked and Thor took Fandral by the hand, striding quickly towards a circa-1971 sequined curtain that led upstairs. Obviously she didn’t expect Loki to come along. Perhaps she even thought this would be giving her the upper hand... like she could make Loki jealous... that was silly, though. Loki was paying for it. Then again, Thor was probably too young to understand the value of power in a relationship.

Thor looked back at her subject and noticed that Loki was coming along. “You can’t come back here.”

“Sure I can.”

“I don’t do couples.”

“Did I ask you to  _ do _ me? I don’t think so.”

“I’m not doing this if you’re there.”

“ _ We _ aren’t payin’ you if I’m not there.” Loki knew that this part probably wasn’t necessary - that just being with Fandral alone  _ could _ be enough to scare her away. He tended to be melodramatic about this sort of thing, and could be almost as cruel as she could. But Loki didn’t like to take her chances. If she was going to scare Thor away, appealing to her sense of disgust would be one way of doing it.

Thor stopped, frustrated. “That’s sick. You’re my sister.”

“I’m not touching you. And I’m not making you touch me. I’ll make it a thousand, if you’re really that upset.”

Thor rolled her eyes angrily and turned back around, pulling Fandral more aggressively. “Fine. But you can sit across the room.”

The stairs smelled strongly of cigarette smoke and the private dance area was not really so private - more of a mezzanine above the club with cleaner-looking couches and soft red lighting, with windows looking out onto the main stages. It was far from deserted. Clearly, near-prostitution was how this club operated.

Thor instructed her sister to sit off to the side and led Fandral to an open place across the room. It wasn’t a big room, though, so Loki had no problem seeing what she wanted to. She crossed her legs and relaxed. Fandral was in for a good time, and so was she.

Thor sat him down and faced him, nearly climbing atop him, and started doing what Loki could only describe as simulating intercourse. It was even more over-the-top than her dancing had been, like she had learned all she knew about sex from shitty porn. It seemed like this not only was her first lapdance, but she had never even  _ seen _ a lapdance before. 

Hesitant as she had been to accept Loki’s offer, she was certainly not half-assing this performance. She grinded her ass on Fandral’s leg, rubbed her bare chest into his face, made high-pitched little utters of pleasure, and the idiot actually seemed  _ into  _ it, but, Loki thought, how could he not be, he was such a  _ child _ and Thor, awkward wildness and all, was undeniably attractive, and she took his hands and brushed them over her nipples and clasped them ‘round her waist, and now she was thrusting in staccato spurts over his crotch, and Loki knew he was hard and she... she didn’t mind watching.

She had never seen Fandral alone with another woman, though she knew he cheated on her regularly, a fact that she didn’t particularly mind. They’d had threesomes (and foursomes, and fivesomes...) but that was different, because Loki herself had always been an active participant in them - dare she say it, the center of attention, really. Those were fun, but this... this was something entirely different.

Because she couldn’t touch. Even if she had wanted to, and she  _ didn’t _ , she couldn’t. And this turned her on like nothing had in her life.

She could hear them breathing heavily from here, almost synced-up like this really  _ was  _ a performance all for her benefit. Somewhere between their arrival and now, Thor had lost her thong. She was up on her knees, fingers grabbing Fandral’s normally clean-cut hair, controlling him, keeping his gaze on her pussy but not allowing him to get close enough to taste it. His pants were still buttoned, but Loki could distantly see his erection struggling to escape their confines. 

Reluctantly, she admitted that it was, in fact, pretty hot.

So she bit her lip and gave in. One well-moisturized hand slinked down her dress and slid it up over her hips; it was so short already that this wasn’t a suspicious act. Her fingers settled on a place just above the black band of her g-string. Slowly, it ran back and forth between her hipbones, causing little shudders to shoot up her ribs. She was doing nothing wrong if she was just teasing.

Even if she was really, really enjoying that teasing. She let out a little sigh of her own.

It was only fate that Thor chose that moment to turn around.

They locked eyes as Thor bent over, hands on her knees, and rubbed her ass between Fandral’s legs quicker now, and harder, the movement of a girl who had a goal in her sad little mind. There was no denying Fandral’s look of ecstasy. It was killing Loki that she couldn’t just slide her fingers down... pull aside the fabric, slip them inside, dig them as deep as she could within herself, and pull them out to show them what they’d done to her, and make Thor suck them dry-

Wait. No. Thor? Not Thor. Fandral. Fandral would be sucking them dry.

The difference was irrelevant. She didn’t, she couldn’t. Instead, she gave Thor a serene smile. And  _ nothing  _ but a smile.

Thor stood, beaming, leaving Fandral in the mess he’d made of himself. He didn’t seem to mind. She approached her sister.

“I believe you owe me,” Thor said with a confidence Loki hadn’t thought her capable of.

Loki handed over the money. So this was war.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Despite Loki’s best efforts, Thor was growing to love Las Vegas very quickly. It had a certain friendliness to it. A camaraderie, cemented by the fact that the locals were all here for the same reason: to hustle. 

The thing about hustling was that  _ someone _ had to be the hustled. Thor was getting pretty good at being on the giving end rather than the receiving one. She had a knack for it. The city had taken her in, had given her pretty things, friendship, a way for her to feel sexy without shame. 

_ Shame _ . That was the operative word, wasn’t it? To be a good hustler, you couldn’t be ashamed of it. You had to get in and do the dirty work and be proud of it, or else people would see right through you, and the show would never work. You couldn’t allow it to cheapen you. That was the thing about being sexy. As soon as you felt ashamed of what you were giving, it wasn’t sexy anymore. It was exploitative.

It all made sense now. That was the very thing Loki had been trying to make her feel. Making Fandral cum upstairs at the Cheetah Club could have been shameful for any three of them. Especially Loki, who could have been destroyed by showing the slightest amount of weakness watching her boyfriend be humiliated like that. Or Thor, who was under no illusions as to what she was doing to Fandral, and knew full well that it was slutty and sleazy. Fandral didn’t seem too bothered either, but he was probably used to being defiled; he was such an emblem of the city that true debasement was probably impossible.

Thor didn’t know what happened after their little playtime at the Cheetah, but she knew that she had walked away unscathed. And a grand richer.

That’s why she was doing so well here - she was a quick learner. She was adaptable and perceptive, much more than she was ever given credit for. She knew how to make men want her. It wasn’t hard. And if there was one thing she had figured out, it was that shame was Vegas’ engine. It just so happened that Thor was a fast driver.

It was a lazy afternoon, a weekday, probably, and Thor had gone with Sif to help her with the fit of some new costumes for Goddess. She was always more than happy to help Sif (generosity was the foundation of their friendship) but she had an ulterior motive to stick to. This would be the first time she’d returned to the Stardust since she’d seen Loki last.

Hopefully, Loki would be there. Not because Thor wanted to see her, but because she wanted to prove that she wasn’t scared.

So far, not so good, though. They were at one of the empty dressing room vanities and Sif was fixing a broken zipper that didn’t want to hold on the thin champagne-hued satin of Thor’s top while she chatted away about how her ex wouldn’t stop calling her. It was still early and they were alone. It should’ve been a relaxing afternoon, the daily calm before the nightly storm; Thor didn’t have to work until ten and yet, just being here, her heart was thundering away.

She knew what would still it, and it wasn’t convincing Sif that he ex sucked. But it seemed that Loki had better things to do than spend five hours getting ready for her first show.

Sif finished up her work and there was no longer any innocent reason for Thor to stay at the Stardust. Feeling disappointed, she changed back into her street clothes and left the dressing room.

The heat outside, for once, was welcome. Summer was over, though you couldn’t tell from looking at it; the temperature was fairly mild for Vegas and the sun was losing some of its indomitable power here. Thor didn’t mind the heat, but the shock of the fourty-or-so degree difference between the outside and the overly air conditioned casinos always gave her a headache. 

She hailed a cab to get home to Sif’s trailer, absentmindedly grateful that she was making enough money to not have to walk or hitchhike everywhere anymore. Not that she was too good for that. But appearances mattered, and she couldn’t have people thinking she was broke.

Thor liked Sif’s house very much. It was cozy, and she didn’t feel like she had to act like a guest, or pretend to be impressed by all of her nice things, because Sif didn’t really have any nice things, apart from the ones she made for Goddess. It was a refuge. A home away from the glitz and glamour where Thor didn’t have to act like anything she wasn’t. 

She laid back on the twin bed and closed her eyes. It didn’t help much. Being in one place, even if that place was home, always had a way of compounding her unrest.

Loki, Loki, it always came back to Loki.

Thor didn’t know  _ what _ it was about her. She couldn’t sum up her feelings with a neat little word like hate, or jealousy, or reverence, or ambivalence. All she knew was that she couldn’t get her off her mind. Not when she was dancing, or trying to fall asleep, or counting her money at the end of the night and knowing it wasn’t a tenth of what Loki made.

It was only fitting that the phone rang just as she was getting up to make lunch, something difficult and elaborate that the shitty stove would probably ruin anyway, to keep her mind from wandering.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Thor. Ohmygod. Thor,” Sif practically shouted. “Ohmygod.”

“What?” asked Thor suspiciously.

“Holy shit. Fandral just came in and I thought he was going to yell at me or something but he  _ didn’t _ and ohmygod you have an audition.”

Thor froze. “An audition? For what?”

“For Goddess! Tomorrow at four. Main stage. Fandral  _ personally  _ told me. He asked for you but I told him you went home already.” Sif sounded out-of-this-world excited. Coincidentally, Thor hadn’t told her about the lapdance. For all Sif knew, her and Fandral had never even met.

So Thor had to ask  _ why _ , though it was pretty fuckin’ easy to figure out  _ why _ and  _ how _ Thor had gotten the audition.

“Why? I think he mentioned something about knowing the owner of the Cheetah Club, I mean he knows  _ everyone _ , and with you being Loki’s sister, maybe he just felt like he needed to give you a chance. But like, does it matter? You have an audition for the hottest show in Vegas. That. Is. Amazing.”

“Yeah, yeah, I suppose it is,” Thor said, trying to feign excitement but not doing a very good job.

“Okay. Okay. I have to run. I’ll see you tonight. Love ya!”

Thor hung up and gritted her teeth. There was only one thing this could mean: that Loki was thinking about her just as much as she was thinking about Loki.

* * *

The stage was very cold, even with the lights beating down upon it. That was probably how Loki liked it. But Thor wished she had a jacket.

She wasn’t the only girl at the audition. There were seven of them, and if you took a picture and cropped off their heads as they stood, half-naked, in a line, it would have been impossible to tell them apart. Uniformity was desirable for showgirls; they were meant to be archetypes, blow-up dolls brought to life, what every man pictures when you tell him to describe his fantasy woman.

Thor didn’t want to be that. She wanted to stand out. Loki stood out.

The audition was confusingly easy, and very professional, at first. A female choreographer checked their names off a list and showed them a few steps. Each of them had to try it alone, and then as a group. To Thor, they all looked identical, but the choreographer must’ve been seeing something she didn’t, because she tapped a few of the girls on the shoulder as they danced and gently told them to go home. Thor was actually surprised. She had expected this audition to be solo and anything but professional.

That didn’t diminish her pride when the choreographer never told  _ her _ to go home. The steps were simple and required little of her strength, nothing like the daunting challenge of the pole at Cheetah’s that she’d quickly mastered. Nevertheless, she put just as much of the aggression she let out there into these more elegant moves. Thor was what she was, and you don’t rise to the top by acting like everyone else.

Once the group was narrowed down to two other girls and Thor, the choreographer, who now introduced herself as Gail, told someone to come in on her walkie-talkie. Would it be Loki?   
  


Unfortunately, that had been too much to ask for. Fandral and another man emerged from somewhere backstage. He was wearing dark sunglasses and looked as convivial as always. The other man was older, heavyset, and wearing a tan suit. His hair and mustache were an unnatural shade of honey-brown.

Fandral welcomed them and Gail had them go through all the steps once more. Thor wasn’t sure what they were expecting. It seemed to her that anybody could do this. As she swayed and twirled, putting as much passion into the movements as she could, Fandral watched her with the same expression he always had, a stony mixture of appraisal and hunger. It would’ve been creepy if he wasn’t so damned good-looking. The other man had no such luck. He looked to Thor like a butcher.

It wasn’t long before they were told to stop. The other two girls were instructed to come to a callback the following Monday. Fandral gave Thor a wink, and then he and Gail escorted them out.

Thor was left alone with the butcherlike man. He smiled widely in a clear attempt to make her feel more comfortable, but Thor could see what was in his eyes. This was more along the lines of what she had expected. It was okay. She was tough. She could handle it. Men looked at her like this all the time.

He told her to do the routine again. And then he told her to do it with her top off. It was a topless show, after all, and Thor was used to this sort of thing, considering it was what she did for a living now. No, that was all fine. 

What was not fine was the way he violated the first rule of clubs - no touching the dancers. That, Thor didn’t like.

She slapped him hard on the face. She left the theater. She fought back tears thinking about how it could’ve been worse.

* * *

The stage was dazzling. Thor loved how the lights shined in her eyes.

Especially when she made her grand entrance, rising up on the platform during Goddess, ethereal, resplendent, surrounded by backup dancers and enrobed in shimmery gauze and little else, a splendor fit for worship. She really  _ did _ feel like a goddess. The crowd  _ oohed  _ and  _ aahed. _ They shouted her name in reverence. The flowers they sent her shrouded her vanity in sweet-smelling red. Except one bouquet, which showed up wilted and moldy. Somebody was jealous, so it seemed.

Excellence invites jealousy, though, and excellence Thor had achieved. It had taken one night only to make a star. And a star she was. Everything had been worth it for this.

The day after the audition, she had gotten the call. She wasn’t taking over Loki’s spot, of course. She was an understudy, and she had barely seen Loki since Fandral’s offer; evidently she was sick or something. (She had told Sif about what the butcher-looking-guy did during her audition. Sif had consoled her, but also assured her that she wasn’t surprised one bit, that Vegas was full of dirtbags, that Thor should take the job anyway so it didn’t seem like she was afraid of him.)

So she took it. And, inevitably, she loved it. Like Loki had predicted it from the start. If she had, Thor would thank her, if she didn’t hate her so much.

Because that bitch had warned her of all the wrong things. She told Thor of how dirty and slimy and evil the city was. Sure, she hadn’t been wrong. But if Thor had really needed a warning, it would have been a warning of how wonderful it could be at times.

She was three nights into being a part-time performer at the Stardust and things couldn’t have been going better. With luck, Loki would stay sick indefinitely. 

The last show of Saturday night was over, and Thor was taking her sweet time removing her stage makeup and pulling out the pins from her hair. The dressing room was emptying quickly. She heard the door open, and saw Fandral approaching behind her in the mirror.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said.

Thor had already gotten over how strange it was to have your sister’s boyfriend calling you beautiful. He probably said that to everyone, and anyway, it was more than clear now that Loki wasn’t the jealous type.

“Good evening, Fandral.” She smiled professionally at him.

He stood behind her and put his hand on her bare shoulder, looking at her through the mirror. He smelled like coffee. “Have any plans tonight?”

Thor did have plans, plans to go back to Sif’s house and watch a funny movie with her, then sleep until one. “Nah,” she said.

“Well, I’d love to thank you for helping us out so much with Loki’s absence. Make you a nice dinner, you know, toast to finding such a capable understudy.” He smiled winningly. 

“Um, okay,” Thor agreed without really thinking about it. 

“Great. I’ll send a driver to pick you up in an hour.” He left the vanity, leaving Thor alone to wonder if this had been a good idea.

Would Loki be there? If she was, would she be expected to do something weird with them again? Or even just him. Thor certainly wouldn’t put it past them to try and humiliate her that much more, since the show was going so well, and Thor had proven herself there. Fandral was slimy and capitalistic, but... he was also sweet, and he had done so much for Thor. Maybe she was reading too much into it. This could be all that he said it was - a courteous way to say thanks and good job by someone who could maybe be her brother-in-law someday. A peace offering. A promise that they could all be cordial, or even close.

Thor laughed aloud at herself at that thought. Loki would never let that happen; she was far too competitive and catty to be  _ happy _ for Thor, and her hatred ran deep. Probably even deeper now that Thor had effectively taken over her place, even if it was temporary. No fuckin’ way was this a friendly visit. Thor was going to be on her guard. She was playing with fire, and could almost see it burning her already, from afar, like she was no longer a part of her body.

Wasn’t that awfully dumb, though? Wouldn’t it be more effective to just... put it out? Or even embarrass it back a little in return? Make it pay for what it had done to Thor?

She smirked and got up; the smell of roses was heavy in the air and she was feeling bold. She went into Loki’s empty dressing room. With a wild rush of excitement, she perused the chrome rack of Loki’s dresses. A silky crimson one caught her eye. She pulled it on; it was a bit snug, but it made her tits look like a million bucks.

_ Now _ she was ready.

* * *

The Mercedes pulled up outside Fandral’s mansion. It was far enough outside the city that you couldn’t hear the noise, but you could still see the lights. Palm trees swayed comfortably in the wind.

The driver opened the car door and Thor stepped out onto slate-grey stamped concrete. The mansion was opulent; it looked vaguely like what Thor pictured people’s fancy Cape Cod summer homes would look like. She ascended the steps, stilettos clacking satisfyingly on the ground.

As if he’d been watching out the window for her, Fandral opened the front door right as she reached the top step.

“Hi,” he said, making the word sound far cooler than it had any right to be. He was still in his omnipresent business suit. Then again, what had Thor been expecting, a satin bathrobe?

“Hi,” she echoed. With any luck, she sounded just as cool as he had.

Fandral ushered her inside and her eyes flitted around suspiciously. No sign of Loki. Just a whole lot of gold accents and white leather.

“I thought we’d have dinner first, then go for a swim,” he said, verbally gesturing to the elaborate pool in the backyard that could clearly be seen through the floor-to-ceiling windows. “You hungry?”

Thor put her purse down on a filigreed coffee table. “Starving,” she answered. “I don’t have a swimsuit, though,” she added, just in case.

Fandral ignored this entirely. He led her into an opulent dining room, where there were already full plates on either end of a long cherry-wood table. The chandelier tried to sparkle as brightly as Thor did. 

“Hope you like lobster,” Fandral said. 

Thor had never had lobster, but it transpired that she liked it very much. The dinner was conspicuously normal. After toasting to her work ethic and talent, Thor and Fandral discussed the success of  _ Goddess _ , how she was liking the Stardust, what her goals were for the future. “Well, I’d love to be the lead in a show,” she’d confessed. “Permanently.”

Fandral had gotten a glint in his eyes when she said that. “Give it time,” he answered. “The way you’re dancing now, I’ll find a spot for you.”

“At Goddess, or something else?” Thor probably wouldn’t have been so bold, but this was her fourth glass of Moët.

He slowly chewed a bite of ravioli and swallowed before answering Thor. “The sky’s the limit.”

Thor’s eyebrows furrowed. That could only mean one thing. If Loki wasn’t here listening, and Fandral had already proven himself Thor’s ally, then it couldn’t hurt to ask. “What about Loki?”

“Don’t worry about her,” dismissed Fandral. “I love your sister very much.” The way he said it was odd, but Thor couldn’t figure out why.

So she nodded, aware that he wanted the topic closed. After that, Fandral didn’t seem too keen on discussing work. Of course, this only increased Thor’s appetite for gossip. Was he really thinking about getting rid of Loki for good? 

It did seem like it. He had invited her to his house all alone and fed her and gave her champagne. There was no doubt that he liked her. It would be silly for Thor not to use this to her advantage. 

Maybe Fandral had been plotting Loki’s downfall all along. Or he wanted her out of showbiz so he could marry her and make her have his children. Either way, it seemed like something Thor had the opportunity to quicken. She hadn’t forgotten what she’d done to Fandral at the Cheetah Club, and sure, that had been at Loki’s direction, but what if she tried it again without permission?

This was a fun plan, she drunkenly decided. While Fandral was sipping the rest of his champagne, Thor adjusted the neckline of her dress lower. It was abundantly clear now how Loki had achieved her position at the top. And Thor was just the girl to challenge it. She knew the game.

Without checking with Fandral, she got up from her seat at the table and strode over to the glass door, arching her back as she opened it. She stepped out onto the patio.

The pool was softly lit by golden lights. The desert air had cooled as the night had settled, but the water still called to her. She slipped out of Loki’s dress and dove in.

It was pleasantly cold, but the shock did little to soothe the heat building between her hips; she knew it was alcohol-induced, but she indulged it all the same. She stayed under the surface for a few blissful seconds, feeling the eddies swirl her hair around in endless spirals. When she surfaced, Fandral was standing in front of her. She hadn’t felt him get in. His suit was discarded on a beach chair.

He put his hand on the back of her head and kissed her, and she kissed him back.

He pushed her up against the side of the pool and palmed her breast; she put her hand around his half-hard cock and rubbed it up against herself, so reminiscent of the last time and she felt the thrill of being the one to make him cheat, but somehow it was still lacking... something.

By all accounts, the sex was great. Fandral was no amateur. And yet there seemed to be an element missing; this was fun and Thor couldn’t complain when he made her cum, but something kept nagging at her, something that said  _ this could be better _ and asked her what she really wished for, but she had no answer to give. This was controlled and conventional, not raw and carnal.

As they moved from the pool to his bed, Thor realized that she had only cum because she’d been thinking about the fact that the cock inside her had also been inside her sister.

* * *

It was the early hours of the morning, meaning around 11:00 on Thor’s schedule. She awoke in Fandral’s bed, twisted in Egyptian cotton sheets and a fluffy white comforter while a fan spun lazily overhead. It had wooden palm leaves for blades. She rubbed her eyes and when she pulled herself up on her elbows, Fandral was coming in the room with a cup of coffee in each hand. This time, he  _ was _ in a satin bathrobe.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he said, and got back into bed, handing her one of the mugs. It was black and inordinately sleek.

Thor went to take a sip, but it was still boiling hot. “G’morning. Another busy day?”

“You know it. I’m pitching a new show to upper management.” The way he said it made it seem like he was already deep into pitch-mode.

Thor felt her heart rate spike despite not having had any coffee yet. “A new show?”

He smirked at her. “A companion show to Goddess. Fridays only, with the goal of surpassing all the weekly profits from Goddess combined.”

“What’s it... is it... for me?” she asked, annoyed at herself for sounding so unsure of herself. Of course it had to be for her. Who else would Fandral do this for?

“Yes, for you,” he said slowly. His smile took on a dark tone.

“Oh my-” Thor stuttered. “T-thank you! I can’t believe this!”

“Believe it, darling.”

This was it, her dream come true. It was so much better than taking over Goddess. A show of her own, free from Loki’s demeaning shadow. And only a month after she’d shown up here, broke and desolate. Could even Loki claim that kind of success?

“Wow. Just... wow.” She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. It had taken so little for her to get her way. “So - do you still need me at Goddess? Is Loki coming back? She can’t be sick forever.” Thor laughed lightly. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to have me out of her greasy hair, too.”

“Here’s the thing,” Fandral said excitedly. “It’s not  _ just  _ your show. That’s the concept, actually - it's better than that. It’s  _ both  _ of you. You two and nobody else. Dancing around the lines of taboo and good taste. Vegas will  _ eat it up _ .”

Thor had to clench her teeth to keep her jaw from dropping. Unfortunately, she was not as good at containing her thoughts to herself. “Both of us? Together? Are you out of your mind? I’m not- I can’t-”

Legitimate confusion spread over Fandral’s face. “Do you have some kind of problem with her?”

“Yes! Obviously!” she shouted, losing her temper completely.

“I had no idea. She always speaks so highly of you.”

“Then she’s fucking lying,” Thor spat. “Fandral, she hates me. I seriously think she wants me dead. Or at least out of her life forever. Did she agree to this?”

He drank more of his coffee, probably to buy himself more time to figure out how to convince her to do the show. “Well, that’s all news to me. She seemed so enthused that you two would get to spend time together again.”

“Bullshit.” 

“I’m just repeating what she said.” There was an awkward pause. “So... you won’t do the show?” Fandral finally asked.

“No!”

He put his hand on her arm. “Thor, honey, just think about it. It’ll be the hottest show in Vegas, you’ll be rich. Just you two up on that stage, all that tension...”

“What the fuck, Fandral. That’s fucking gross.” Thor felt sick. Had he been planning this all along? Was she actually the one who had been played for a fool?

He moved his hand down to her leg, and she didn’t know why she wasn’t swatting it off like a horsefly. “You don’t have to actually do anything,” he assured her gently. “It’s all pretend. Just like what you do now.”

“I don’t care. That’s just as bad. God. No. I’m not doing it.” She kept shaking her head, like he wouldn’t believe her otherwise. Or maybe she was just trying to convince herself of that.

Fandral stopped touching her and slid off the bed to look distantly out the window. “Then I guess I don’t have a show for you.”

“Fine.” She went to leave. “See you tonight.” Her tone was as dismissive as she could possibly make it.

“Tonight?” Fandral asked. “Oh, no. Honey, you’re not working Goddess anymore.”

Thor stopped in her tracks. “What?” she said with as much hatred as she could muster.

“You’re out,” Fandral said harshly. “If you don’t do the show with Loki, then I don’t have a place for you at Goddess either. You’re out. For good.” He was still gazing out the window like this was the easiest decision in the world for him.

Thor, in contrast, was a fuming ball of emotion. She exhaled hard through her nose. “Fine.”

She slammed the door on her way out.


	4. Chapter 4

Loki was crying.

Now, they weren’t  _ real _ tears, of course. She was a very good fake crier, though she hadn’t had a reason to use this skill in quite a while. Nevertheless, she knew she was convincing - she was wearing  _ sweatpants,  _ for Christ’s sake - and it was a good thing she’d double checked with the secretary at the Stardust’s HR department that this really was where Sif lived, because showing up to anyone else’s doorstep like this would be hugely embarrassing.

She knocked the clackity screen door, trying to stay as far away as she could from the bugs buzzing around the orange porch light. She tried to look down and destitute, but Sif’s eyes peering through the window blinds at her were as bright as a beacon, and Loki naturally perked up at them.

With a rusty groan, the door unlocked. Sif poked her head out, cautious. “Loki?” she asked in disbelief.

“Sif,” Loki sniffed. “I-I’m so gl-glad you’re home. I just... I need to talk to somebody. I feel so alone.”

“Um, yeah, sure. Come in,” Sif said. She held the door open for Loki. The inside of the trailer was far less derelict than she had been expecting. “Are you okay? What happened?”

It was very clear that Sif was bewildered, but she was too kind a soul not to do what she could to help. Loki would never understand that particular predisposition.

She sat on the bed by the window, having a feeling that this was where Thor slept. “It’s Thor. She... she...”

“Oh my god,” said Sif. “Is she okay?”

“Yes! No! I mean...” Loki ramped up her crying to near-hysteric levels, and Sif handed her a tissue. After a long minute, she decided that the tension was appropriately high, and pulled herself together. “She’s fine. She fucked my boyfriend.” (By Loki’s calculations, actually, Thor was fucking her boyfriend as they spoke.)

“She  _ what?” _

Loki nodded and sniffed a few times. “Yep. I just found out. God. I’ve been so stupid. I get the flu  _ one _ fucking time and for  _ once _ I let Fandral hire an understudy. I wasn’t happy that it was Thor, obviously. I mean, you of all people know that I’m not her greatest fan. But Fandral said it was a good business decision, and little did I know, he was  _ fucking  _ her!”

“She... she wouldn’t do that...” Sif said weakly.

“Sif, don’t you see?” Loki begged. “How do you think she got that job? There were  _ hundreds _ of girls just as qualified. I guess they all had a little more self-respect than my whore sister.” 

Sif shook her head, torn. “I knew Thor was ruthless but... I thought she was better than that.”

“She played both of us.”

“What about Fandral, though? I mean, he betrayed you too.”

Loki shrugged a heather-grey clad shoulder towards her ear. “I’m not too surprised about him. It fuckin’ hurts but I’m not surprised.”

“So, um...” Sif bit her lip, wondering whether she should keep talking. She must’ve been taking lessons from Thor, because she said it anyway. “What about your job? Is Thor actually, like... replacing you?”

This seemed like a good time for Loki to start crying again, so she forced out another tear. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t be surprised. I guess we’ll see what Fandral says when I march up to him and that skank tomorrow. If he can bear to look at me after all he’s done to me.”

“He can’t just fire you.”

“I don’t think he’d fire me. He’s petty, but I put the asses in the seats. It would be suicide to kick me out to the fucking Circus Circus or something.” 

There was a silence, and Loki let her tears dry. Sif seemed like she was reconsidering a lot of things. Loki knew it was best to give her time to let this version of the truth settle in. 

But she had places to be, so she got the final nail out and started hammering. “Well,” she sighed. “She’s gonna be coming to pick up her stuff soon, I think. You should probably put it outside.”

“What?”

“Fandral said she’s moving in with him.”

“After  _ one time? _ ”

Loki looked around at Sif’s trailer, trying to put on a face that said  _ how could anybody want to leave? _ “I don’t think it’s only been one time, but I know. She’s so fickle. He mentioned something about how this was what she deserved. The fancy house, the glamorous job, the life of a star. I guess she doesn’t think her friends can be a part of that.” Loki knew she was laying it on thick, but Sif didn’t seem like the brightest bulb.

Sif made a noise of indignation. “Hmph. Okay. Well if that’s what she wants,” she got up, “then that’s what she’ll get.” She grabbed a jewelry box that Loki recognized from their youth and flung open the screen door, tossing it on the ground, then started gathering Thor’s other things. Loki took this as an indication that it was time to go.

She put her hand on Sif’s shoulder when she was picking up more of Thor’s clothes. “Sif. I’m so sorry.”

Her eyes were reddening, too, but her tears were not fake. “No, Loki. I’m sorry.”

“Y’all wondered why I had a problem with her? Well, now you know.”

Sif pulled her into a somewhat wet hug, but Loki hugged her back. Sif was a good girl. Maybe if things went right someday, she and Thor could make amends with her.

But that was a long way off, and Loki had people to call, places to be. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah,” Sif answered. “Thanks for telling me. I know this was hard for you.”

“Thank  _ you _ for listening. I don’t get a chance to open up very often.”

Sif smiled through the pain. “Maybe you should.”

“Maybe.” With a final squeeze of Sif’s arm, Loki left. Thor’s clothes, her bedsheets, her makeup and jewelry, the few pretty things she owned were all strewn across the ground. At least it didn’t rain here. And Loki knew a good dry cleaner. She strode quickly across the dirt lawn and pulled out her phone.

“Bitch,” Loki said to herself under her breath, “you’re so fucking cruel.”

* * *

Fandral’s voice on the phone was flat and businesslike. “It’s not happening. She said no. You’re back in, baby.”

Loki smiled. “She said no? ‘Course she did. You’re not very convincing.”

“Are you saying  _ you’re _ going to ask her? That’ll go over well.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do. The show’s still on, darlin’. I know what to say.”

“Which is what?”

“Oh, Fandral. You don’t need to know the details. You’ll just have to trust me.”

* * *

It was the morning after. Fandral called her once Thor had left, and she’d waited the appropriate amount of time.

Loki was off to Cheetah’s. Thankfully, like the classy establishment they were, they opened at noon. She was going to make sure Thor didn’t get her job back, and with a little luck, she wouldn’t even need to convince management 

The perpetually-on neon lights flickered as she pulled into the parking lot. No sign of Thor yet. 

The bouncer looked surprised to see Loki coming alone, though at least she’d had the good sense to wear something reasonable, nothing like the dumpy sad clothes of last night. No, not dumpy at all, just a subdued black leather jacket and pants tight enough that you could see her thong if you squinted. But nothing flashy. She wasn’t there to watch, or to be seen. She had bigger fish to fry.

The morning rush was more of a drag and the club was mostly empty. The whole place felt full to the brim with heavy sadness. That was none of Loki’s business. She followed a tired-looking dancer back into the dressing room.

Several girls were dressing (or, rather, undressing) in preparation for the crowds that came in after lunchtime. The club’s manager, a middle-aged man with a crinkly black suit and leopard-print tie, lounged back in a leather chair watching them.

Loki approached and stood gracefully in the doorway. The girls all turned to look at her, though the manager did not. 

“Excuse me,” she said. She didn’t like it when people pretended she wasn’t there.

He swiveled around and his eyebrows shot up. “Yeah?” he asked. Loki supposed he was trying to act flagrantly unintimidated by her.

“I’m looking for Thor. She hasn’t been back here, has she?”

The undressing girls who had gone back to putting on their makeup perked up at Thor’s name. So she’d been popular, maybe even well-liked, here.

The manager folded his hands across his sternum. “As a matter of fact, she has,” he answered in a thick, probably fake Brooklyn accent.

“She ask for her job back?”

He slowly nodded.

“What’d you say?”

“What’s it to you?”

Loki didn’t like his tone and she wanted to roll her eyes. But this was important, so she restrained herself and handed him a twenty.

He didn’t smile. “I said no. She wanted a bigger cut. Because she can put Goddess on her resume now,” he said mockingly. “I’m not a fucking dumbass. If she’s back here, it’s because she needs the money. I don’t like girls who get too big for their britches.”

Loki sort of wanted to punch him for that. Whether it was for his admonishment of Thor or of women in general, she wasn’t sure. But clearly this guy was a total asshole, and she was very sure that she didn’t want her sister working for him. She kept a straight face, though this was the answer she’d wanted. “Alright. Where is she now?”

One of the strippers cleared her throat. She looked almost just like Thor, with the gleaming blonde hair, the boobs, the innocent face. “She’s around back. I went to talk to her but she... she didn’t want the attention.”

Loki smiled wide at her. Maybe she’d judged the profession too soon. “Thanks, darlin’.”

She didn’t say thanks to the manager, but he didn’t seem perturbed. She left the dressing room and wove through the thickening crowd, some of whom had started to recognize her. That was fine; she was in a good mood. Just because her plan had been well-laid didn’t mean she wasn’t satisfied when it came to fruition.

The air outside was heating up, but in the shade, the air still held the promise of a chill. For a moment, she was home again. She missed winter. Not Vegas winter, but real winter. Someday, she and Thor would go back and say goodbye.

The club’s exterior was old stucco that looked like it had been vomited on so many times that they’d given up cleaning it. Loki walked around the back. The cars parked here were notably more dented and less shiny than the ones up front. The sunlight gleaming on them looked like orange constellations.

She heard Thor before she saw her. The hurried sniffling, the wiping of eyes, the telltale signs of someone trying to pull herself together. No doubt she would’ve heard the ugly clack of Loki’s stilettos on pavement.

Thor’s tall figure rose from where she’d sat on the curb. 

“Thor?” Loki asked gently.

“What?” Thor spat. Loki could see her squinting through her soaked eyelashes. “Wait. L-Loki? What the fuck are you doing here?” She looked like she was about ready to run away.

“I just want to talk.”

“Why do you think I’d want to talk to you?”

“Because,” Loki began patiently, “I’m family. I know you’re hurtin’. And I’m the only hope you have left to begin fixin’ that.”

“Don’t be dramatic.” She put her hand on her hip in some futile display of power. 

Loki stepped closer to her. Thor was talking, so she probably wouldn’t run. With a tingle of pleasure, Loki recognized the dress her sister was wearing. “It’s true, Thor. What job do you have? What home? What friends?”

“I have Sif.”

“I don’t think you do,” Loki said. “I just went by there, looking for you. Apparently someone’s been making up rumors. About you only getting Goddess by sleeping with Fandral. Kind of sad that Sif believed it, but that’s Sif for you. Anyway, your shit’s on her porch.”

Thor gaped. “W-what? Why would she do that?”

Loki was momentarily very grateful that Thor was asking her this and not why Loki didn’t try to set the record straight with Sif. But she supposed that Thor still thought so lowly of her that it wasn’t a surprise. “Maybe she doesn’t like hypocrites,” she answered with a hint of spite.

“But... I didn’t do that.”

Loki laughed. “Don’t lie to me. I know where you just came from.”

Thor shook her head like she was willing herself not to start crying again. “H-he told you?”

“And he told me what you said,” Loki explained, nodding. “About our show. And how you thought you were better than that. Look around you, hon. I think it’s time to reconsider.”

“No!” Thor yelled, perhaps a little too loud. She knew it wasn’t a good idea to arouse suspicion behind a strip club, even in the washed-out daytime. She squeezed her eyes shut, and then sat back down on the curb, putting her head in her hands. “I can barely look at you, Loki. What on Earth makes you think I could do a show with you?”

Loki closed the remaining distance between them and did her best impression of sweetness and contrition as she looked down at her desperate sister. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m willing to forgive and forget if you are.”

Thor said nothing.

“It’s what our parents would’ve wanted,” Loki continued. 

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“How would you know?” Thor asked. She sounded less angry than dejected.

Loki sighed. She was trying to do this the easy way, and it seemed to be working. Of course, if Thor proved stubborn, she had no qualms about shifting to the hard way. “Look. I’m sorry. I’m just tryin’ to make amends. Would you believe me if I said I actually do regret being a bitch to you?”

“No.”

“Well, I do. Honestly. I felt threatened when I saw what you were capable of. Of how talented you were. It scared me.” 

“Really?” To Loki’s delight, Thor sounded not sarcastic, but genuinely surprised.

Thor still was staring into the ground, and Loki stood beside her, watching how her hair shone in the light. It felt strange, this... being  _ honest  _ thing. She didn’t do it very often. But if there was anyone who deserved it the most, it was Thor. “Yeah. And now I know that you’re strong, too. I told you you couldn’t do it. And you went and did it.”

Loki was losing track of how much of this was empty flattery and how much she really meant.

“It was horrible of me to do what I did,” she continued. “So I’m done with that. I think you deserve another chance.”

“What makes you think I want to give  _ you  _ another chance?”

“What choice do you have?”

Thor sighed but took her head out of her hands. She stared straight ahead instead. “I could leave. Everything would be back to normal for you.”

“And you would be startin’ over with nothing.”

“Yeah,” Thor agreed. “Because of you. You and Fandral, partners in making life shitty for everyone else. I’d be poor. It wouldn’t be good, at first. But I made it here. I can make it anywhere. And I wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore.”

It was clear that Thor wanted her space, so Loki sat down right next to her. She was glad she wore pants; she would still need a long shower when she got home. Thor recoiled from her touch when she put her hand on Thor’s knee, but she left it there anyway. “Okay. It’s fine if you don’t want to see me anymore. I understand. I ruined a lot of shit for you.” She paused. “I do have a proposition for you, though.”

“What?” Thor asked. She’d fixed her eyes on the ground again.

“Just do one show with me. One night only. And I’ll even give you my cut from it. And then you can leave. Go wherever you want, only with some money in your pocket. Enough to get yourself established somewhere.”

Thor thought about it for a minute. Then, she sighed and turned her head upward. The open air looked uncomfortable with itself, exposed, like the sky got self-conscious and wanted to be obscured by dark stormclouds. Thor’s voice was stronger when she spoke. “Okay. One night. But I’m not rehearsing with you.”

Loki let herself smile, a real one this time. “I’m not asking you to rehearse with me. I’m proud of you, Thor. I think you’re doing the right thing.”

Thor slid Loki’s hand off her and stood quickly. “When’s the show?”

“Next week. And I’ll talk to Fandral about getting you a hotel room at the Stardust until then.”

For the first time, Thor looked her sister in the eye. Thor’s really were beautiful. “Loki? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Did Fandral fuck me because he wanted to, or did he just want to rope me into doing your show?” In that moment, she seemed like the almost-child she was. Loki could see the illuminated smoothness of her face, the wide-eyed look of fluttering butterflies that only comes with such low stakes as wondering if the guy you just slept with actually liked you or not.

Loki pulled her car keys out of her purse, feeling sympathetic for someone for perhaps the first time in her life. “I’ll let you figure that out on your own. Come on. I’ll drop you off at the casino.”

Victory sang like the early morning birds in her veins when Thor got in the car with her.


	5. Chapter 5

When one is being pampered, one’s week tends to go by deliciously slowly. Everyone and everything is committed to helping you breathe deeply and relax and not think about how your massage costs two hundred dollars per half hour. Your skin begins to glow softly from the sweet-smelling European products it is constantly encased in and the plumping hydration of the cucumber mineral water available to you at all times of the day. Even your workouts are luxurious, since they always end with a sauna.

Of course, even the tiniest amount of nerves over what is to happen at the end of said week can poison all of that.

Thor’s nerves were more colossal than even the deepest of massages could soothe. Sure, she appreciated that Loki was doing this for her, especially since it was all free. But she knew what it really meant. Loki was incapable of doing a kindness to anyone unless it benefited her doubly.

It was no secret that the Stardust was not just a place for Thor to stay until she left Vegas. It was a very well-appointed and tasteful prison. These endless spa appointments ensured that Thor never had time to leave. If she failed to show up, Loki would know. And it was very difficult to choose being thrown out on the streets when one is currently blissed out on lavender milk facials and argan oil head massages.

So Thor endured this perfumed prison. She wandered between her room, the spa, and the pool like a glamorous ghost haunting the graveyard she was bound to. Only one more day until Loki exhumed her.

Adding to Thor’s worries was the fact that she hadn’t heard from Sif the whole week., though she knew Sif had to have been working on her costume some twenty floors below where Thor’s room was. Up here, it was high enough to see out of the city into the great barren beyond. Thor probably could’ve gone to see Sif, or at least called her, but she feared it would only upset her more. It was easy to refute a nasty rumor about you when it was false. It was much thornier business when part of it was true.

It hurt, but Thor kept to herself that week. Maybe Sif would forgive her someday, if Thor ever came back to Vegas. But for now, she decided that a clean break with her best friend would be the easier route. If she wasn’t leaving, it would be different. But repairing her hurt honor took time, and doing so while others berated her for her alleged misdeeds wouldn’t help.

Besides, Thor had other things to worry about. There was only one rehearsal for their one-night-only show, something that Thor wasn’t used to. Fandral had called her the day she moved into the hotel room and told her what to expect. They were going  _ minimalist _ , he said. Classy. A dark stage with two spotlights, a totally bare set, and certainly no glitter. The single rehearsal was just to show Thor the basic idea, and anything else was up to her. It was supposed to be in the moment. Realistic. 

_ “Passion cannot be faked.”  _

Thor wasn’t sure what kind of passion he meant. Thor’s would be the angry kind. And she was not afraid to show it.

* * *

She was alone in the elevator as it zoomed down from her room to the ground floor. It was still Friday’s early morning hours, and only the gambling addicts were awake. Thor no longer felt any pull towards the slot machines and poker tables. 

The theater was empty, too, other than the same woman, Gail, who had auditioned her ages ago. Thor breathed a sigh of relief. She’d been worried that this would be another thing Loki had lied about.

Gail looked up from her notebook. She looked as high-energy as always. “Welcome, welcome,” she exuberated.

“Hi,” answered Thor tentatively.

Gail smiled. “No need to be anxious, honey. You’ve done all this before.”

Did that mean dancing, or  _ lap _ dancing? The single wooden chair on the otherwise empty stage answered that.

Gail noticed Thor looking and started talking again, like she was trying to distract her from what was coming. “Your sister said you had some ballet training. Is that right?”

Thor scowled slightly. Of course she had said that. “Well, yeah. But it was a very long time ago.” Before their family self-destructed. Back when things were good and they could afford things like ballet lessons. Back when Thor and Loki could be taken to those lessons without Odin threatening to drive them off the road.

“That’s fine,” Gail said. “It’s not like I’m asking you to be on pointe or anything. But we are taking a different direction with this show than we’ve ever gone, and you having some formal training will be really helpful.”

“How so?”

She put a hand on her hip. “Well, it’s basically, like... an evolution of sorts. My vision is to show how the movement of bodies reveals our animalistic tendencies, our most secret desires. How even the most refined of movements disguise what we really want.”

“Which is...?” 

“You name it. But the taboo aspect of it is the point. Now, I’m not asking you to actually  _ do  _ anything like that, of course. Just suggest it. Make the audience wonder. Toe the line between the erotic and the depraved. It’s not so different from what you’re used to, just more intimate. And with the veneer of classiness and respectability, like we all put on.  _ You  _ are going to tear that down. What do you think?” 

Thor swallowed. So  _ that _ was why Fandral had told her so much about the set design and not the show itself. He wanted her to think that the veneer was the real, honest-to-God thing. And the  _ worst _ part about Gail’s explanation of the show was knowing that she could still object. It was... weird, to say the least. Probably very wrong. Too far and too gross for her. Loki could find someone else to enact her sick fantasies with.

But Thor couldn’t force her mouth to say no. Something inside her actually wanted to do it, if only to prove to Loki that she could. And she didn’t think it was merely the part that needed money.

“I think... okay.” Gail’s face relaxed instantly. “Yeah. I can do this.”

“That’s so good to hear. Let me show you what I have...”

They ascended the steps to the stage and Gail walked Thor through the general choreography she’d created to embody the concept. It was exactly as she’d said - it started out with a beautiful, elegant dance so innocent it could be a child’s recital before devolving into faster, angrier steps, more entwined with the dancing partner, more connected, more sensual, and, as Thor had guessed, finally ending with a lapdance.

Gail looked at Thor pointedly. “Now, this part is really up to you. I’ll be honest with you, Thor. I really don’t know how to choreograph it.”

Thor nodded; Gail knew her more  _ recent _ background. It wasn’t like she tried to hide it. “I understand. It’s not really something you can practice for. It all happens in the moment.” She meant that. She couldn’t plan what she would do before it happened. No matter what, it would end up being different once Loki was the one in front of her.

“Oh, good,” sighed Gail. “There is one more thing, though. At Fandral’s request. It’s for the grand finale.”

This couldn’t be good, Thor thought.

Gail actually looked somewhat uncomfortable, and that was saying something for a woman who told mostly nude young adults how to move in provocative ways for a living. “I guess I’ll just say it. He wants you two to pretend to kiss.” She held her hands up defensively. “Now, don’t get mad at me, it’s totally his idea. It’s totally fine if you keep it looking super fake. Probably better that way, actually.”

It worried Thor that she did not actually feel disgusted at this; Gail had no reason to be defensive. It wasn’t real, and it wasn’t so different from what all of the rest of the show was. Instead, Thor felt resigned. This was  _ not  _ Fandral’s idea. Fandral was pervy, yes, but he was also unoriginal, and Loki was the expert in knowing what people wanted and giving it to them in the most visceral of ways.

“Okay. Yeah. That’s fine. I can do that.” 

She would just have to dissociate. Pretend it wasn’t her sister. This was just some other pretty girl that wanted a private dance. Not that Thor had ever done that, either, and she didn’t even really think she  _ liked _ girls, but she could pretend. She was strong. And the money was right.

* * *

It was the night of. Thor was alone in the dressing room, and the silence made her feel like she was being watched. Her vanity had been cleaned by someone, and all of the flowers were gone. Loki was probably in her private dressing room. Thor didn’t want to check.

Sif was nowhere to be seen, but the costume she’d made hung on a satin hanger at the vanity. It was an elaborate, white-blue silk contraption, made up of several pieces that Thor could take off at will. If Sif really didn’t hate her, it would fit perfectly. And if she did... this could get ugly.

Lo and behold, Thor pulled on the first layer of a lacy bra and panties and they fit like a dream. The negligee did too, as did the short robe and stockings. It was lingerie, no doubt of it, but it was better than anything Victoria’s Secret could dream up. Sif really was talented.

Thor deliberately left her hair and makeup simple. No wig, no extensions, no fake eyelashes, no body glitter. It seemed more fitting for this event, and she also thought her hands were shaking too badly to do much more.

The clock chimed eight. She grabbed the handle of whiskey, which she rarely needed anymore, from the locked cabinet in her vanity and took a large swig, and then took another. With a deep yet shaky breath, she ascended the daunting metal stairs to the stage. It was showtime.

She had been told that Loki was to go on first, and when she was ready for Thor, she would beckon her from the stage. Gail was at the top of the stairs. 

“Ready?” she asked.

“I think so,” Thor replied. She would make a point to send Gail a thank you note once she was up and out of here. The woman had done a lot for her, least of all soothing her nerves when they attacked most viciously. 

It was dark and the music was different than she was used to. In an earlier life, she might’ve recognized the composition; a solo violin and nothing more rose and fell in wanting crescendos, alone and barren. It was somber and subdued, a far cry from the bombastic pop-orchestra compositions Goddess was set to.

Thor peered out from backstage. First, she looked at the crowd. A full house, obviously. There was no casual chatting, no bachelors elbowing each other. They were transfixed.

It was easy to see why. Loki danced alone in black and emerald green silks, not a showgirl but an artist, gracefully following the music like she was hopelessly attached to its mournful notes, desperate and forsaken without it. Thor couldn’t take her eyes off her. Evidently, the short year of training she’d had in New York had affected her greatly. Thor had never felt anything but scorn towards Loki and her inability to keep her scholarship at the dancing school, but now it was being replaced by sadness.

She shivered. It was cold backstage, colder than it was usually kept. 

Loki went into a sort of bow, then swept her body towards where Thor stood, waiting, backstage. She held a hand out dramatically, then beckoned to her with a finger.

Abandoning all sense of restraint, Thor leapt out beyond the curtain. The music swelled. A piano entered the arrangement.

Loki watched her, sharp-eyed and dangerous. Thor could not make herself look away.

Her conscious thoughts vanished and her instinct took over. She and Loki circled each other like birds of prey, locked in an elegant struggle, sweeping past each other with delicate jumps and spins; this was dancing as Thor hadn’t done in years, meant to evoke emotion and raw beauty rather than eroticism alone. It was as if the audience wasn’t there, that this was not a stage at all, but an entirely different realm, and there was nobody around except Loki. The music picked up in pace and so did their dancing, and even with the chill Thor was growing warm. She shrugged off the robe and left it on the floor, and Loki did the same.

The distance between them shrank and Loki reached her arm out towards Thor before pulling it away, and suddenly Thor remembered her anger. Why was she doing this? Why was she giving Loki exactly what she wanted?

She flitted away from her sister, breathing hard, and Loki followed. She would not give up the chase, but Thor knew she could not escape from it entirely. The stage had become a prison, just like the Stardust, and just like Vegas itself. 

So she abandoned it all. She spun to the chair in the middle of the stage and sat dramatically, looking down, away from the audience, waiting for Loki’s freshest punishment.

Currents of air spun like a whirlpool as Loki circled her. She drew in closer and landed softly atop Thor’s lap, pulling her legs apart with a strength Thor wouldn’t have expected from her.

Thor looked back up, her body stiff and coiled. Loki was facing away from her, performing for the thirsty crowd, gyrating a few inches above Thor. Slowly she pulled off the top layer of black silk and let it drop below Thor’s feet. Thor could do nothing but sit in horror. She  _ definitely  _ couldn’t bring herself to touch Loki as she knew she was supposed to.

But then she remembered why she was there. It was not to be passive. It was for revenge.

She lifted her trembling hands and unclasped Loki’s emerald green bra.

The crowd gasped as one and Loki arched back into Thor’s lap, digging deeper between her legs. The thin fabric of Thor’s negligee rode up and left her thong dangerously exposed to the soft skin of Loki’s ass on her.

This was no longer a pantomime. Whatever Loki was doing, this was real. She  _ wanted  _ to do this. She wanted to seduce Thor.

That  _ bitch. _

Thor let her head dip backwards, closing her eyes and letting whatever was  _ happening  _ happen. Her heart rate seemed to be double that which it should have been, blood thundering through her veins hot and heavy. Loki’s hands, too, whispered over Thor’s bare legs, creeping upwards gently like anything more than the lightest of touches might cause Thor to lose her composure and attack. She was taming an animal, and it was working.

At least, it was working until she decided to spin around. Thor’s eyes opened and there Loki was, looking like some savage beast with her makeup smudged and her naked chest heaving. It was the first time Thor had ever seen her lose composure. She was beautiful like this.

Her hips swayed on Thor’s and she pulled off the rest of Thor’s clothes roughly, taking little care not to touch her skin too much to be considered, well, too far. This was already too far. But if they had surpassed that line already, what danger was it to keep going?

So Thor let it go. She let herself be seduced, she let Loki whisper her hands up her neck and caress her face, though she knew the audience would hardly be able to see it. Nobody needed to see it. All that mattered anymore was them, and them alone. 

Perhaps that was what  _ family  _ meant.

Thor put her hands on her sister’s waist, trailing them up her back, and pulled her closer. This was the moment, the finale; the music hit a fever pitch of a breathlessly held high-pitched ringing on the violin and thundering low sixteenth-notes on the booming piano. 

Thor was done with pretending. She looked directly into Loki’s green eyes, and then she kissed her fully with all the rage she could muster.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

The lights shut off dramatically and the curtain swung closed. Loki pulled away and stood anxiously, turning away from her sister.

She couldn’t let anyone see the smile stretching her mouth wide.

She heard Thor get up and leave. She did not dare guess what Thor was thinking.

In fact, it would be better if Thor was simply gone when Loki reentered the dressing room. It would save them what would most likely be a very awkward conversation. The money had been left in an envelope on her dressing room vanity during the show. All she would have to do was take it and Loki would never bother her again, forever.

And then Loki would be all alone, her place in this world restored, her boyfriend happy and rich, and her family completely and utterly eradicated.

For whatever reason, that thought faded her smile and she pulled herself together, staring into the black velvet curtain until the pumping of her heart had returned to a reasonable pace. Then she picked up the robe from the stage floor and pulled it over herself. Since when did she have any modesty?

Regardless, it felt right. When she exited stage left, Gail was gone, and all the better, because she would have seen all of it. Loki did  _ not  _ want to have that conversation with her. Not now, not ever.

Backstage was completely empty. Not even Fandral was here to congratulate her. He’d been sitting in the front row. How much had he seen?

Feeling like her insides were composed of an impenetrable maelstrom of shame and satisfaction, she crept softly back to her room, more grateful than she’d ever been that it was private and had a working lock. She needed some time alone. Time to figure out what the hell Thor had just done, and what the hell she herself had done, and how the hell she felt about all of it. There was a lot of muck to sort through, and the last thing she needed was Fandral bursting in and telling her how much they’d made from the triple-priced tickets tonight.

She turned the door handle and was prepared to let herself relax, finally, but that plan, too, was foiled. Because Thor sat, stodgy and stiff, on her velvet armchair, a very full glass of whiskey in her hand.

“What are you doing here?” Loki intoned bitterly.

“I think you have something to answer for.”

“No,” Loki argued. “I don’t. And you can leave now. Your money’s on the table out there.”

Thor took a sip of her drink. “What if I don’t want to leave?”

“Why wouldn’t you? You don’t owe me anything. You’re free. If you want me to tell you ‘sorry’, I’ll even do that.” Why, oh why, was Loki being so... nice?

Thor uncrossed her legs and let them relax, wide open. She was probably drunk. Drunk and stupid and messy, like always. It was a damned mystery why Loki ever thought she’d liked her. 

“I don’t want to hear a ‘sorry’. I want to know why you wanted me to do that shit with you,” she said, the accent in her voice creeping back in. She had done so much to lose it the past few weeks, but once things went south, it was back in full force. 

Loki was starting to get angry, but tried to keep her voice steady. She was the adult here. “Look, Thor. You’re the one who kissed me. So I am  _ not _ the only one who has something to answer for here.”

Thor held out her whiskey glass, offering it to Loki. Abandoning all her dignity, Loki took it and drank. It was awful, bottom-of-the-shelf shit, but she understood why Thor needed it right now. She handed it back and Thor sighed.

“I did it because you didn’t think I could do it,” she said quietly. It was almost like all of her passion from before, all the fury that Loki had seen out on that stage, had shrunk into one quivering knot deep inside of her. “You always doubted me, Loki. You were always the smart one, always the ambitious one, and you were so goddamn pretentious about it. I was tired of you thinking you were so much better than me. So I did what even you didn’t dare to do.”

Loki tensed. “Is that it?”

“Is what it?”

“Is that the only reason? There were plenty of other ways you could’ve shown me that, Thor. And you’re real mistaken about what I thought of you.” Loki’s accent was coming back, too. She made no attempt to conceal it. 

Thor set the glass down on the cold tile floor and pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around them. She looked younger than her years. She was silent until she wasn’t. “Maybe not.”

Under normal circumstances, Loki would’ve hated her for being so vulnerable. But this was her  _ sister _ . It was her sister, and they were all they had left. Maybe there was still a part of Loki that could love what needed loving. She slowly paced over to Thor’s chair and crouched by its side, putting a hand on Thor’s bare shoulder. She hadn’t dressed after the show like Loki had.

“It’s okay,” Loki cooed. “You don’t have to say anything. I love you, darlin’. You’re family. I won’t try and forget that anymore.”

Thor looked up at her; her eyes were bleary and her mascara had run off completely. “What if I want you to forget?”

“Why would I want that?” Loki asked gently.

“Because, I... I don’t know,” Thor struggled to get out. “I didn’t think families were supposed to be like this.”

“Like what?”

Thor swallowed and her voice was steady once more. “You  _ wanted _ me, Loki. I could tell. And I wanted you back.”

Loki blushed. Her face was most definitely giving her away. There was no use in lying. “Yeah. Yeah, Thor, I did.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Do you still want me?” There was so much need in the look she gave Loki. What exactly it was that she needed could’ve been anything. A mother, a sister, or even just a friend. But Loki couldn’t give her any of that. Loki  _ wasn’t  _ any of that. She was wicked, cracked, venomous. But she would do what she could.

So she responded with a kiss, one with even more emotion in it than the one Thor had given her up on that stage, and even though Thor tasted like booze and desperation, Loki couldn’t get enough of it. Thor kissed her back, hard, and it was like all the pain they’d inflicted on each other since their parents had died imploded at once, like they had finally figured out how to love each other, like they were mending what they’d thought was irreparably broken.

Thor pulled Loki up onto her lap and pulled her mouth away to bury her face in Loki’s shoulder instead, wrapping her strong arms around her. It was a hug, but it was more than a hug, and it was the first time anyone had hugged Loki in about as long as she could remember. So she hugged Thor back. Finally.

A hug was not all that Thor wanted, though. Once her tears had dried, she turned her head back to Loki’s and kissed up her neck, pulling Loki’s haphazardly tied robe off her shoulders. She was a hungry little thing, and cupped Loki’s breast with a long-nailed hand, moving her back and forth over her lap. 

Loki, truly, had not imagined things to move this quickly. 

But once Thor got going, she wasn’t going to stop, and Loki certainly wasn’t going to stop her. She dropped a hand between her legs and rubbed it over Thor’s thong, feeling how soaked it already was; it had undoubtedly been like this since midway through the show. Thor moaned low in response, and the sound was so beautiful Loki wasn’t sure how she ignored it for so long. 

She pulled away and knelt between Thor’s legs, pulling her knees forward and sliding her underwear off. No doubt this was new territory for Thor, being fucked for  _ her _ own pleasure instead of somebody else’s. Loki needed to change that. She needed to atone for her jealous sins against her sister and show her the love she deserved.

Thor needed it right now. If she needed it always, that was something Loki would have to give her.

Because Thor looked desperate and broken and a mess, actually. Maybe eating her out wasn’t the best way to show her that love right now. They would have plenty of opportunities in the future. Loki smiled apologetically. “You’re drunk, Thor. I think it’s best if we wait.”

As she expected, Thor’s expression shifted immediately from horny to hurt. “You... you don’t want to...?”

“I do. So much. I promise. But I want you to remember it. It’s better when you’re sober.” She ran a hand up Thor’s thigh affectionately to prove her words true.

Thor sat up, but instead of going to put on her clothes, she touched her pussy, rubbing around it and parting it so that Loki couldn’t dare to look away. She couldn’t believe it. Thor was actually trying to seduce her.

It was very nearly working, too. Hell, it  _ was _ working.

“Well, well,” Loki drawled. “No one can say you’re not persistent.”

“You owe me,” Thor said, a note of threat in her voice.

Loki laughed despite herself and nodded. “I ‘spose I do.”

And she gave in.

Thank God the door was locked, she thought, because this must look just as depraved as Fandral had wanted it to, except so much  _ worse _ , Loki serving her sister like this. She couldn’t be patient or slow; she needed this just as much as Thor did. Without hesitation she licked a broad stroke over Thor’s pussy before sucking on her clit, swirling her tongue around it and Thor was already  _ so  _ wet, so she thrust two fingers quickly inside her. Thor cried out and Loki was suddenly afraid that somebody would hear them.

She pulled away and put the index finger of her hand that was not currently inside of Thor to her lips. “Shhhh,” she urged.

Thor opened her eyes with what seemed like a Herculean effort and stared down at Loki. “S-sorry.”

Loki was about to resume fucking her, but the knock on the door made her jump.

“Shit,” she whispered. “Put your underwear back on. Fuck. Please.”

She hurried to get her own on, too, and once they had some semblance of modesty regained, she unlocked the door and cracked it open.

It was Fandral, holding a massive bouquet of red roses. Behind him was Sif.

“Congratulations! Can we come in?” he said boisterously.

“Of course,” Loki said with affected normalcy.

She opened the door. They both looked surprised to see Thor lounging comfortably on the same chair she’d just been fucked in. She looked like she was in no state to be seen by  _ anybody _ , let alone her boss and her once-best friend.

Sif scurried over to her and started apologizing, and Loki knew she needed to let them have their moment. Fandral set the flowers on the vanity and pulled Loki into a kiss. She hoped he wouldn’t be able to taste Thor’s pussy on her lips.

“That was spectacular,” he said, apparently oblivious to what Loki had just been doing. “Beautiful. You two are true artists.”

“Oh, thank you, dear.” Loki bit the inside of her cheek. This was exactly the opposite of what she wanted to be doing right now.

Fandral ensured that Thor was too busy reconciling with Sif to hear him, and in a very loud whisper, he said, “So... is she staying? I thought she was supposed to be out of here by now.”

“Um... we were just talking about it. She hasn’t decided yet. But she seemed amenable to doing another couple shows.”

“Wonderful,” Fandral beamed. “The whole town wants to see you two. We could charge a grand a seat.”

Loki nodded vaguely. “I’ll try and convince her.”

“ _ Please  _ do. Now, can I take you two out for a drink?”

“Can you give us a few more minutes?”

He looked perplexed. “Why?”

Loki swallowed. “We just have a lot to talk about. We never really got the chance before. She’s comin’ around.”

“Alright, I guess. Sif,” he announced. “Let’s give them some privacy. Meet at the Nebula at eleven?”

Sif bounded back over to him. She looked a lot happier than Loki had last left her. It seemed she was the forgiving type after all. 

“Hey,” she said to Loki, “thank you.”

_ For what?  _ Loki wondered, but before she could think to ask, Sif pulled her into a tight hug. And then they were gone.

Loki locked the door behind them. Thor couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off her face.

“So...” Loki trailed off.

Thor shrugged, but made no attempt to undress once more. “So, what’s next?”

“That’s up to you, darlin’. Do you want to...”

“Nah. Like you said, we have time. Lots of it.” 

Loki smiled, too. “So you’re not leavin’?”

Thor got up and hugged her. This was a lot of hugging for Loki, normally, but she didn’t mind it for once. “Never. You’re gonna get tired of me after a week. But that’s too damn bad, because I’m stuck with you now.”

“And I with you.”

Thor pulled away and looked at her, wiping the half-dried mascara from her eyes. “I say we do a couple more shows, cash out, and ditch this place.”

Loki’s smile turned into a smirk. “I know the combination to Fandral’s safe. I’m not sayin’ we should take it all, but...”

“I think that’s exactly what you’re sayin’.”

“Maybe.”

Loki kissed her again, grateful that all of her bitchiness and conniving had gotten her here and not alone and despondent like it probably should have. 

Thor looked over at the clock. “We should probably get ready to go.”

“Yeah. Just... Thor, I think I want to go home. Our  _ real  _ home. Just to see it. So I can be done with it forever.”

“Oh, really?” Thor challenged. “I think we should go to New York.”

Something inside of Loki swelled at the comment. Maybe Thor really had loved her all along, as much as she’d been trying to not. “Alright. New York. I think that’s a great idea.”

“New York it is, then. Come on. We can’t keep our boyfriend waiting.” She winked mischievously, and it made Loki proud. They were really more alike that she had thought.

“Or  _ our _ friend.” Loki had changed a lot in the past few minutes to be thinking of Sif as a potential friend.

Thor elbowed her playfully. “You know, Loki, you’re a lot less of a bitch than you think you are.” 

“You’re wrong about that. Just you wait. Only I think you’ll like it a lot more when it’s not directed towards you.”

“What if I want it directed towards me?” Thor asked.

She had a point. If she’d fallen in love with Loki at her bitchiest, then that was the realest Loki she could love. “Then that’s what you’ll get. But I’d really like it if you fought back every once in a while.”

“Don’t worry,” Thor said. “I will.”

They kissed again, and Loki felt like, for once, their family was how it should be. They’d been through too much to keep causing each other pain. Love was the only option they had left, and if this was the sort of love they had, then Loki was ready to let it blossom for as long as they lived.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! as always, I'm on tumblr as [@cosmya](https://cosmya.tumblr.com)


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